Excursion
by cmaddict
Summary: MacStella. With her company, even a day of shopping wasn't so bad.


**A/N:** Wow. It has been an incredibly long time since I posted anything on here. I'm really sorry for that. It has been the craziest semester to date. I'm graduating in about 6 weeks, and I'm in the middle of trying to find a job for next year so I can pay off those pesky loans. And, to be honest, I've had the biggest struggle with writer's block recently. So this is my effort to get back in the game. Lily provided the prompt, which was originally _purse_, but in working with that, this came out. Oh well.

Thanks to Lily for the read-through, the prompts, and the editing. You're awesome.

**Disclaimer: **I no own.

* * *

"I can't believe you conned me into going shopping with you," Mac Taylor grumbled as he followed his partner into yet another department store.

Stella Bonasera tossed her thick curls over one shoulder. Her lovely face twisted into a grin, and emerald eyes sparkled as she playfully shoved his shoulder. "I told you exactly what we were doing."

"I seem to remember you mentioning lunch, not hours of walking around in circles."

"I _did_ mention shopping," Stella retorted. "It's not my fault you have selective hearing."

Mac rolled his eyes, deciding to drop the argument. He wasn't going to win. When it came to Stella, he never really won. Though there was no way in hell he'd ever tell her that. She'd never let him live that down. And if he were really honest with himself, he _let_ her win more often than not. That triumphant grin always made his heart skip a few beats.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he watched Stella stride toward some slacks in the middle of the store. In truth, he didn't mind tagging along with her. He needed to get out of the office for a while, and he certainly couldn't complain about the company. If only he'd realized just how _hard_ shopping was. Claire never dragged him along, saying that he really wouldn't have a good time with it. For more than ten years of marriage, he was grateful for that. But then she died, and he began to wonder whether he'd let valuable, precious moments slip through his fingers.

Now, with Stella, he was determined not to let that happen again. If these last few months had taught him anything, it was that time was vital.

He looked up to see his partner rifling through a rack of blouses, a thoughtful frown on her face. "What are you looking for?" he asked somewhat tentatively. She was focused, and if a person broke that focus, watch out.

She raised her eyes to meet his. "I'll know it when I see it," she muttered.

Mac chuckled. "I figured you'd say that."

She didn't answer. Instead, she shoved more clothes aside, only occasionally stopping to check a price tag. The frown on her face deepened with each passing moment.

Finally, growing more impatient by the moment, Mac ventured, "Anything I can help with?"

Stella blew out a long sigh and stepped back from the clothes. Her hands went to her slender hips in a gesture of slight annoyance. "No. I'm not finding anything."

"Good. So now we can get out of here."

A laugh escaped her lips, a gentle and melodic sound to his ears. "In your dreams, Mac Taylor."

Mac groaned. "Joy."

"I need to find a dress for the mayor's banquet next month."

"Don't you have dresses?"

She turned her gaze on him again, her eyebrows narrowed at him just a little, as if she were saying _you poor, stupid man._ "I've worn those before," she replied easily before flouncing off toward the door.

Oh. That made sense. Mac shook his head, trailing her out of the store and back onto the busy New York Street. He didn't understand women. And he guessed he probably never would.

He quickened his step so that he was walking alongside Stella. The streets were crowded with pedestrians finishing early Christmas shopping before the Thanksgiving rush. It forced him to walk closer to his partner, so close that his shoulder occasionally brushed against hers. He stole a glance at her, trying to gauge whether she noticed. If she did, she didn't show it. In fact, she almost imperceptibly leaned into him, her eyes fixed ahead of them.

The corner of Mac's mouth twitched. Maybe this would turn out to be a good day after all.

"So what kind of dress are you looking for?" he asked, stuffing his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. It was getting colder, with a stiff wind blowing out of the door. Clouds gathered in the distance, heavy with possible precipitation. Winter was finally on the horizon.

Stella shrugged, steam from her breath twisting and twirling in the cool autumn air as she exhaled. "I'm not really sure. I'll know it – "

"When you see it," Mac finished. She snickered, and he rolled his eyes. "I should've known."

"Yes, you should've." She slipped her arm through his, and he glanced at her, surprised. She returned his look, raising an eyebrow questioningly, almost daring him to say something. Suddenly he found he didn't want to. He liked this closeness. A lot.

"You're still learning, so I'll let it slide this time," Stella continued.

"What am I learning again?"

"Mac, your education is incomplete without a shopping excursion with me."

"Really? I thought that four years of college and three years of graduate school were enough."

"Absolutely not. Your life is not complete without being brought up to speed on the ins and outs of shopping."

"Hmm. Whatever happened to ignorance as bliss?"

Stella swatted at his arm as he laughed. "Stop it."

"Okay, okay."

"Here," she pointed at a quaint little dress boutique on her left. "Let's try this one."

Ever the gentleman, Mac opened the door for her, giving her a smile as she brushed past him. The sound of a tinkling bell filled the air as he followed her inside. The distinct smell of vanilla assaulted his nostrils.

Stella immediately made a beeline for the evening dresses hanging on the back wall, ruthlessly pushing dresses aside. Abandoned, Mac watched helplessly, completely unsure of what to do. '_Should I help?'_ he thought. But then he realized that if he tried to help, she'd probably tell him to go stand in a corner somewhere. She was… rather independent.

"Can I help you?"

The unfamiliar female voice broke into his thoughts, and his gaze fell on a young woman behind the counter, obviously one of the salespeople at the store. "What?" he asked, shaking his head.

"If you're looking for something particular, I can help you out. We sometimes get guys like you coming in here."

"Guys like… what?" His eyes widened suddenly, and he swallowed hard. Good Lord, maybe this wasn't such a great day. "No, thanks, I'm just… well, I'm…" he stuttered, looking over at Stella, who was engrossed in a price tag on a black dress, her arms already filled with scraps of cloth. Finally he sighed and looked back at the young woman. "I'm with her."

Not even bothering to wait for a response, he hastened to Stella's side just as she grabbed one more dress off the rack. "Are you done yet?" he asked, worriedly looking behind him at the young saleswoman.

"Not yet. I still have to try these on."

Mac nearly let out a groan, but he bit the inside of his cheek. This was her day. He could be patient for a little while longer.

Stella grabbed his hand and led him toward a thick white curtain in the back. He pushed it back for her before following her into a large waiting room, complete with a plush-looking sofa against one wall and a set of three mirrors opposite the sofa. "Sit down there," she instructed.

He only too happily obliged. Sinking into the comfortable couch, Mac sighed contentedly as Stella disappeared into one of the rooms nearby. Finally, here was some comfort. He was tempted to take off his shoes and rub his aching feet, but he resisted. She'd probably punish him or something for that.

Now there was a thought.

"Hey Mac?" Stella's voice floated over the door toward him. "Should I try on the black one or the blue one first?"

Mac thought for a minute. "The blue one," he answered finally. Actually, he didn't really care, as long as it got him out of there faster.

He heard some fabric rustling, then a zipper sliding down. The length of the door revealed her tanned legs as her jeans hit the floor, and an unbidden image of his partner _au natural_ flashed through his mind, and he felt the heat immediately rise in his cheeks. _'Stop it, Mac Taylor,'_ he chided himself. _'That's your partner in there. Off-limits.'_

Shaking his head once for good measure, he looked up to see the blue fabric puddle on the floor. She gracefully stepped into it, the dress disappearing from his sight as she slid it up her frame. Then he heard the sound of the zipper being pulled up once again. "Okay," she called. "I'm coming out."

Slowly the door opened, and she stepped out into the light. Mac looked her up and down, noticing the way her curls fell over her bare, tanned shoulders. The navy blue dress was simple in style, with good straight lines and little embellishment. It hugged her slim figure well, falling just to her knee.

Mac nodded appreciatively. "It looks nice."

"Nice?" she echoed, arching an eyebrow.

"Better than nice. It's pretty."

Stella frowned. "But it's a cocktail dress. I'm not sure I can get away with a cocktail dress at a black-tie function like the mayor's banquet."

"Okay, then don't buy it."

"But I really do like it." Stella turned to look at herself in the mirror, touching her side. "It fits me well here."

Mac tried not to sigh. Women could be so stubborn at times. "Why don't you show me another one?"

She smiled at him in the mirror and nodded. "Okay." With that, she disappeared into the changing room.

He sank against the back cushion and ran a hand through his coarse, dark locks. Maybe this whole thing wasn't such a good idea. Fantasies were one thing when he was alone. But the thought of her in… there was driving him insane.

He heard the whisper of fabric as Stella slipped off the dress and replaced it on the hanger. Then came the clatter of metal against metal, and the plastic hanger knocked gently against the wall of the dressing room. "Which one is this?" he called.

"The black one." She zipped that one up, but this time she didn't come out right away.

Mac narrowed his eyes. "Something wrong?"

"I think they mislabeled the size on this. It doesn't fit me right."

"Can I see it?"

"Um…" her voice was hesitant, with a tinge of disappointment. "I don't think so."

His curiosity was too much, and he couldn't help the question. "Why not?"

Stella sighed softly from behind the door. "Because it doesn't exactly cover everything it's supposed to cover."

"Oh." Mac could feel his ears start to heat, and he rather unsuccessfully tried to push that picture out of his mind. "What's the next one?"

"Uh… a red one."

"Sounds good to me." Mac leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes, letting the conversation lapse into silence. Soft folk music played over a speaker above his head, and he let himself relax for the first time that day. Maybe shopping wasn't so bad after all.

"Are you ready?" her tentative voice shattered the relative silence.

Mac opened his eyes, fixating his gaze on the door in front of him. "Yeah."

Slowly it opened. His eyes dropped to the floor, to her bare feet. Then they traveled up, landing on shimmery red material just at her ankles. They continued up, up her frame to her flat abdomen where the material gathered into ruching, accenting her figure before continuing up to where it hugged her breasts, showing just enough cleavage to set his neurons afire. He swallowed hard and quickly lifted his eyes the final few inches to her face. Her green eyes gazed at him expectantly.

"Well?" she asked.

He shook his head. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he quite unsuccessfully tried to remember how to speak. "Wow," was finally all that could come out.

Stella grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah." Mac couldn't take his eyes off her. The dress framed her figure beautifully, and the color brought out the gold in her skin. Her curls gently brushed against her shoulders as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. "You're just… wow."

She ran her hands up and down the fabric, testing it with her fingers. She narrowed her eyes at her reflection in the mirror, studying it carefully. "You really think so?" she asked hesitantly.

Mac stood, itching just to reach out and touch her. But he refrained, settling for standing close behind her, so close he could smell the sweet scent of coconut. He looked her up and down again until his eyes caught hers in the mirror. "You look amazing, Stell. Really, really amazing."

A slight, pink blush tinged her cheeks, but she grinned. "I really like it too," she said, turning around to face him. "I think I'm gonna buy it."

"Let me buy it." Mac didn't know where the idea came from, but the shocked and pleased look on her face sent warmth running through his veins.

Stella shook her head. "Mac, I can't let you do that."

"Nonsense. I insist. That dress is perfect for you. Call it an early birthday present."

A stubborn look appeared in her eye. "It's three hundred dollars."

Mac folded his arms across his chest. She wasn't about to win on this one. "I got a good tax return this year."

"I have enough…" she protested.

"Stell, this is something I want to do for you." He stood up and stepped closer to her. Reaching out, he tipped up her chin, looking into her eyes. "Please."

She held his gaze for a long time before she finally nodded, smiling softly. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Mac returned her embrace tightly, closing his eyes, breathing in her scent, relishing the feel of her in his arms.

He could definitely get used to this.

"Okay," she whispered, pulling away from him slowly. "I'd better change."

She vanished into the dressing room, quickly exchanging the fancy dress for her jeans and top. Within moments she had exited the fitting room. Mac took the dress from her and took it to the cashier, avoiding eye contact as she ran up his credit card. With the purchase in hand, Mac pushed open the door for Stella, and once again they stepped onto the sidewalk. He slung the dress over his shoulder, smiling at her while they strolled together.

"So," Stella said, slipping her arm through Mac's. "What was with that thing back at the store with the clerk?"

"Uh…" he felt his cheeks redden. _'Good thing it's cold,_' he thought. "Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding."

"What kind of misunderstanding?"

"The kind that is… rather embarrassing."

Stella laughed sympathetically and patted his arm. "Did she think you were shopping for yourself?"

"Something like that."

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. "I'm sorry for dragging you along. But I'm curious - what do you think of shopping now?"

Mac chuckled. "I guess it's not _so_ bad."

"Good. I'm glad you feel that way."

Something in the tone of her voice made him look at her suspiciously. "Why?"

A wide, mischievous grin split her face. "Well, sooner or later I kinda need shoes for the new dress."

Mac groaned. But at the sound of her laugh, he couldn't help but grin. With company like Stella Bonasera, even shopping was all right with him.

More or less.


End file.
